


Scattered

by INMH



Series: hc_bingo fanfiction fills 2017 [27]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, References to Past Child Abuse, Spoilers, Strong Language, Temporary Amnesia, references to past violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 14:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12256020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: Post-TGC, some spoilers. Eggsy woke up, and he knew he was in big trouble.





	Scattered

**Author's Note:**

> Figured I'd try to jump on this scenario before someone else did, because y'all move too fast for me.

Eggsy woke up, and he knew he was in big trouble.  
  
He couldn’t quite remember what had happened, only that something had slammed into his head _real_ hard, and now it looked like he was in hospital. His head was fuzzy, and it was hurting really bad.  
  
“Eggsy?” A pretty woman with glasses, a white coat, and short hair was looking at him carefully. “Eggsy, how are you feeling?” She was American; Eggsy could tell from the accent. Probably a doctor, too, judging by the coat.  
  
He scrunched up a little in the bed, drawing his knees to his chest, suddenly shy. “My head hurts.”  
  
The woman smiled at him gently, and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Eggsy, do you know who I am?”  
  
Eggsy wondered if that was a trick question, but answered honestly because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “You’re a doctor.”  
  
The woman nodded slowly. “I’m a lot of things, but a doctor is one of them, yes. Do you know my name?”  
  
“No, ma’am.”  
  
“Oh dear,” She mumbled.  
  
“Should I know it?” Eggsy asked, uneasy.  
  
“Um…” The woman winced, and then shook her head. “No, not just yet- it’s alright, Eggsy, don’t worry about it. I just need to call in for a little help.”  
  
“Don’t call my stepdad,” Eggsy said quickly. “Please please please don’t call my stepdad.” _I’ll be in for it,_ he thought. _Dean will kill me._  
  
The woman frowned. “Your stepdad?”  
  
“Just don’t call him, alright? He don’t need to know that I’m here.” Eggsy’s voice was shaking now, and so was the rest of him. The idea of Dean coming down to the hospital, turning on the charm for the pretty doctor and then _losing_ it once they were alone made him sick to his stomach. His head was hurting so bad, he probably wouldn’t be able to run fast enough to get away from him.  
  
“Eggsy-”  
  
“I want my mum,” Eggsy whimpered. “If you’ve got to call anyone, call my mum. Please call my mum.” Dean would find out eventually that Eggsy had gone and (probably?) done something stupid and have it out later, but at least if mum came to get him she would cuddle him and scold him and take him home, and he might have time to feel better before Dean could have a go at him.  
  
“Maybe you should let me handle this.”  
  
Eggsy, still shaking and tearing up now, looked up to see a man standing beside the bed. He was older than the lady, definitely English, and dressed very well; he was probably rich. And his glasses- they were broken, maybe? One of the lenses was blacked out. Maybe it was on purpose?  
  
(For not even half a second clarity reigned over Eggsy’s mind, and then was promptly squashed back down again.)  
  
The doctor got off the bed, and the man took a seat. “Hello, Eggsy,” he said with a warm smile. “This is probably a pointless question, but do you know who I am?”  
  
Eggsy shook his head, scrubbing the few tears that had leaked out off of his face.  
  
“Well, that’s not a problem, you’ll remember me soon. We’re not going to call your stepfather, don’t worry- you’re rather frightened of him, aren’t you?”  
  
“ _No_ ,” Eggsy insisted, but it lost some of its effect because his voice was all warbled and snuffly.  
  
“It’s quite alright, Eggsy.” The man reached out and gently rubbed Eggsy’s shoulder until some of the snuffling and whimpering had stopped. He looked at Eggsy with a kindness that was both wonderful and incredibly suspicious all at once.  
  
“Who’re you?”  
  
“I’m a friend of yours, Eggsy. In fact, I have something for you- I gave this to you a long time ago.” The man dug around in his pocket for a moment until he found what he was looking for, and then handed it to Eggsy.  
  
It was a tiny medal; there was a black, blue, and white ribbon with a circular piece of metal hanging from it. The outer circle was pink, but on the inside there was a smaller, golden circle that seemed to be shaped like a rope, and inside that circle was a V-  
  
No…  
  
No, that was a K, he just had to turn the medal on its side.  
  
Eggsy stared at that little gold and pink thing and-  
  
_KINGSMAN_  
  
_HARRY_  
  
_JB_  
  
_MERLIN_  
  
_ROXY_  
  
_CHARLIE_  
  
_STATESMAN_  
  
_GINGER_  
  
_TEQUILA_  
  
_WHISKEY_  
  
-everything came back like a wallop to the side of his head.  
  
Including the last thing before he’d blacked out, which had been the muzzle of a gun pressed to the back of his blindfolded head, as his breath fogged the cold air of the warehouse where the drug cartel had brought him.  
  
Eggsy gasped loudly as he remembered the shot, remembered the impact of the bullet entering the back of his skull, knocking him forward; and he definitely remembered being terrified beyond belief, knowing he was about to be killed and being utterly powerless to stop it, knowing that wherever Harry and Tequila were, they were too late to save him now.  
  
The fear roared up again in the present and overwhelmed him.  
  
“Harry,” He cried, curling in on himself.  
  
Harry set the medal on the bed and pulled Eggsy into a hug. “It’s alright, Eggsy. You’re safe.”  
  
“Fuck,” Eggsy said mindlessly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Harry. I thought I was going to fucking die.”  
  
“You’re not,” Harry assured him with his usual, steady composure, hand rubbing circles onto Eggsy’s back. “You’re perfectly alright now. You’re safe, Eggsy.”  
  
Eggsy pressed his face into the crook of Harry’s neck, trying to stop himself from hyperventilating, and inhaled the smell of Harry’s cologne. It had a vaguely soothing effect on him; it was difficult for him to feel _un_ safe when he was with Harry, mostly because the man was death in nice suit and whatever one happened to be facing, their odds of surviving went up considerably if Harry Hart was involved.  
  
_Harry’s here._  
  
_I’m safe._  
  
But the emotion of it threatened to overwhelm him, everything he’d repressed right before his (almost) death rearing up defiantly.  
  
“You’re perfectly alright,” Harry repeated. “We got to you in record time. You shouldn’t have any lasting damage to your brain, and your other injuries were patched up as well. Tequila had a great deal of fun decimating the cartel while I brought you back here. You’re safe. The mission is done, and you’re safe.”  
  
Eggsy dug his fingers into the fabric of Harry’s jacket and tried his damndest to believe that, even as his mind continued to insist that no, no, you are in immediate danger and need to run or fight if you want to survive.  
  
He remembered the scratch of the blindfold against his eyes. It was a deliberate insult to him: This particular cartel wanted him to be in the dark when he died, unable to see anything but blackness before him. He remembered shivering violently from the cold and from the fear, and if Harry weren’t holding him as tightly as he was, he might have started shaking uncontrollably again.  
  
Eventually, Eggsy’s breathing started to return to normal. “‘M aright now,” he murmured against Harry’s shoulder, feeling almost tipsy and light-headed from the aftermath of his distress. “I think I’m alright now.”  
  
Harry made no move to pull away. “You’re certain?”  
  
_No, no I’m not, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be having nightmares for, like, **ever** , but I’m not gonna start screaming and crying again, so yeah, I’m fine. _  
  
_For now._  
  
“Yeah, it’s fine.”  
  
Harry finally pulled back and sat properly on the bed. Eggsy’s head spun, and he flushed a bit when he replayed the last few minutes in his mind and remembered what it was he’d said; he’d always been afraid of Dean, but that fear had been especially potent when he was younger and hadn’t built up a tolerance to him.  
  
“Sorry ‘bout that, Ginger.”  
  
Ginger smiled from her place by the door. “It’s fine, Eggsy. How’s your head?”  
  
“Feels like someone’s poured concrete into it, let it dry, and now’s trying to jackhammer it out,” Eggsy said, rubbing his eyes and groaning lightly at the dull ache resonating through his skull.  
  
_It hurts because the bullet broke through the bone and brain._  
  
The image that came to mind, one built from a year and a half of Kingsman work, was graphic and bloody; Eggsy shuddered, and Harry put a hand on his shoulder once more, squeezing it lightly. “Are you certain you’re alright, Eggsy?”  
  
Eggsy shrugged, pressing the palms of his hands over his eyes. “Oh hell, I don’t know anymore.”  
  
“We can work on that,” Harry assured him. “It’s bloody awful, but it gets better eventually. I speak from experience.”  
  
“I’m not going to start seeing fucking butterflies then, am I?” Eggsy remarked.  
  
“I doubt that. You’ll probably end up with dancing pug-dogs.”  
  
Eggsy snorted at that, and then took his hands from his eyes so he could look at Harry blearily. “Thank you, Harry.”  
  
Harry smiled, squeezed his shoulder again, and then took his hand away. “You should get some rest, try to sleep off the headache.”  
  
“Yeah.” Sleep sounded pretty good right now, even if Eggsy was wary of the nightmares that were bound to come his way. He settled down on the bed again, his body greeting the prospect of sleep gladly, and his eyelids became heavy. He kept his gaze on Harry all the while, reassuring himself, _I’m fine, I’m fine, Harry’s here._  
  
And Harry, for his part, did not move from Eggsy’s side until he’d finally fallen asleep.  
  
-End


End file.
